The Beach
by Jilsen
Summary: Frank and Callie. Past and present. Growth and friendship.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I do not own the Hardy Boys. I make no money from this story. I only lose time and sleep over it._

_Yeah, I know. What am I doing posting another story when I haven't finished the first one? I have no answer for that. Call me crazy. I won't disagree. I am working on the other story for those who are interested. I think I just needed to try something different._

_This is a short story. It explains what happened between Frank and Callie (in my universe anyway). There's also a bit of a mystery. The mystery starts in Chapter Two._

* * *

Chapter One

The moon slipped behind a cloud. A cold wind sent a shiver down my neck. I turned up my coat collar and dug my hands into my pockets. The ocean sucked back a wave and the sand sifted beneath my boots.

This beach held special memories for me. I had my first kiss here from a bright eyed blonde who tasted of raspberries. I remembered reckless nights laying here with her – kissing, touching, wondering how far we'd go.

The last time I'd set foot on this beach I'd come to say good-bye. That kiss had turned into a commitment, one I was happy to make, and now I had a wife to support. I was off to join the Army.

Back then, I was different. I was twenty-two and ready to take on the world. I was all gung-ho and itching to prove myself. Life soon kicked me in the gut, took me down a notch, and showed me I wasn't nearly as ready as I thought.

The Army opened my eyes to the real world, the one where hate and evil live, the one without love or compassion. I soon realized how sheltered my life had been.

I looked out over the ocean and into the night. The tide came rolling in, coming to claim me. I stood there a moment. The sound of the waves comforted me. I had memories to sort out. Some memories I needed to make peace with.

In the Army, I'd worked hard, made it into the Criminal Investigation Division (CID). As a teenager, I'd worked for my dad in his PI business mostly doing small jobs. I was well acquainted with investigations and tracking criminals.

I found being a Special Agent in the Army suited me. I loved the job and wanted to make the Army a career.

I'd married the love of my life, that bright eyed blonde. Callie. She was beautiful. I know that sounds cliché, but it was true. She had stunning legs and huge blue eyes that took my breath away.

Most guys in high school were happy if she gave them a smile. Not me. I wanted more than a smile and I was determined to get it. I devised a plan.

Callie never missed a baseball game. I'd always see her sitting in the stands with her friend Kelsey a slim brunette who giggled too much. One day, I gathered my courage and made a bet with Callie. If I hit the winning homerun in the next game, she'd give me a kiss.

She laughed, setting off butterflies in my stomach, and agreed. Her eyes said she didn't believe I could do it. Her smile said she found the bet enticing.

I wasn't sure if I could deliver the goods. I thought maybe I'd reached too far. I pushed that thought away and concentrated on the reward – a kiss. _My kiss_.

I'd set up an enormous challenge for myself – not just a homerun, but the _winning_ homerun.

I was the team's starting pitcher, so I had to convince Coach Hayes I couldn't start the game. I sure as hell planned on finishing it though.

I feed coach a story about being queasy. I said the cafeteria food hadn't set well with me that day.

Coach was crushed. I pleaded my case, said I'd taken some medicine and it was working, I just needed a little more time. I could play later in the game.

Coach bought the story.

I sat on the bench biding my time.

By the sixth inning we were losing badly. Craig Stoll, who'd started in my place, was running out of gas. His pitches were getting wider and wilder. He'd hit two batters and walked a third.

You could feel the frustration in the stands. The home crowd was quiet.

I nudged Coach, told him I was feeling better and would like a shot on the mound.

"You sure, Hardy?" Desperation shone in Coach's eyes. Bases were loaded with only one out.

"I can do it. Stomach's feeling better. I got this, just give me a chance." I had my game face on, eager and serious. Exactly what Coach Hayes needed to see.

I was on fire that night. I shut down their hitters. By the bottom of the ninth, we'd tied the score.

We were down to our last at bats. This was it. I had to put up or shut up.

I walked to the plate. We had two outs. I couldn't afford to screw this up.

My brother, Joe, stood on second base. He'd crushed a curveball deep into center field for a stand-up double. All I had to do was hit a single. Joe would score easily from second and we'd win the game.

Only one problem, I'd bet Callie a homerun. No homerun, no kiss. And I wanted that kiss. My kiss. I'd been thinking about it all night and working my tail off to get it.

One thing about me, I don't give up easily. Failing or losing are never options.

I stepped up to the plate. The pitcher went into his wind up. The ball came in high.

Ball one.

I stepped out of the box and swung the bat a few times to keep loose.

The next pitch was perfect. Nerves and adrenaline had me swinging early. I missed the ball by a mile.

Third pitch was high again and I laid off. Coach nodded his approval, but looked worried. I could see sweat beads on his forehead.

The crowd was quiet. Joe stepped off second base getting ready to run.

I stepped out of the batter's box, swung the bat, and looked for Callie. I found her halfway up in the bleachers. She smiled down at me and blew me a kiss. I knew she was teasing me, but it was great motivation.

_I'll show her_.

I was going to blast that ball into space. I was that pumped.

I widened my stance, dug in, and focused on the pitcher. What would he throw? If it were me, I'd throw a change up.

Sure enough, he did and I was ready for it. I dumped all my pent up energy into the swing. I felt the bat meet the ball and heard a satisfying _crack!_

The ball rocketed to left field as I bolted to first. The left fielder sprinted toward the fence, arm outstretched, glove reaching skyward. He jumped at the right moment and I held my breath. Time slowed to a snail's pace. My heart stopped.

The ball sailed over his glove and over the fence. Time restarted. So did my heart.

The crowd erupted. People shot to their feet. Their fists pumped the air. Shouts and screams rang out as I rounded second base.

Joe slid across home plate scoring the winning run. He didn't need to slide, but then Joe rarely missed a chance to get his uniform dirty.

As I jogged around third I searched the stands for Callie. I found her, wide-eyed and shaking her head. She had a big open mouthed smile that said this was the most incredible thing she'd ever seen.

After the game, I shrugged off my teammates slaps and bowed out of the victory party. I claimed my stomach was acting up again. Must be all the excitement of our win I said.

Truth was, I had other things on my mind.

After the crowd thinned and all the gear was packed, I met Callie at the bottom of the bleachers. Kelsey was with her. I ignored Kelsey. Callie was all I saw.

"I believe you owe me something," I said. My voice came out a little hard and a bit bold, but I couldn't help it. I was still hyped from the homerun.

Callie took my boldness in good stride. She smiled and tried to act shy, but I could see beneath the act. She had wanted this, too.

"I guess I do." She tilted her head and brushed her bangs out of her eyes. "When do you want to collect?"

I tried to tame the smile breaking across my face and failed. "Forty-five minutes. Meet me at the big rock on the beach, the one by the three pine trees."

She nodded. A coy grin played at the corners of her lips. Kelsey giggled and smacked Callie lightly on the shoulder. They both fell into a fit of giggles then ran to Callie's car.

At the car Callie turned, cupped her hands around her mouth, and yelled, "Forty-five minutes, Hardy. Don't be late."

Late? Oh baby, if anything, I'd be early.

As it turned out, I was very early and that kiss … well, it lasted a long, long time. Once we started we couldn't stop.

I liked everything about Callie. The taste of her lips, the way the moonlight shimmered on her hair, and the feel of her honey-brown skin. I liked the way she looked at me, too, like I was the only man in the world. Like I was the only man for her.

Something in me changed that night. Some primal need or desire took over. I can't explain it, but I wanted her by my side forever. I wanted to protect her for the rest of her life.

It would take years for me to realize that I wasn't the right man for Callie.

Problem was, she figured it out way before I did.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews. I was shocked. I really didn't think this story would go over well. I know F/C is not a popular pairing. Personally, I'll accept either pairing (F/C or F/N) if the story is well written. It's the author's job to develop the characters and make me feel for them. If the author can do that, then I'm all in. That's my goal here. Can I make you care about the characters in this story? We'll see._

* * *

Chapter Two

The little boy shivered. He drew up his knees and hugged them to his chest. It was damp in the earthen hole. A small opening at the top allowed him a glimpse of sky. He had fallen through that opening hours ago.

He didn't know how many hours, but that glimpse of sky showed nighttime fast approaching.

The little boy was scared and hungry. He wondered if the crazy man was still out there.

The man was the reason the boy was in the hole.

The boy listened intently. The man no longer yelled for him to come out. Not that the boy would or could. He had tried climbing to the top of the hole. The sides were too steep and the dirt too loose. The boy just slid back to the bottom.

He hugged his knees tighter and tried to ignore his growling tummy.

He wished he had listened to Mommy. Mommy was smart and had given him good advice: _Never talk to strangers. Never take anything from a stranger. Never wander off. Stay close to Mommy and Daddy._

Well, he had gone wandering off … alone.

Not smart. He knew that now.

In his small mind, he felt Mommy was holding him back. She treated him like a baby. She never let him out of her sight.

There was a big, wonderful world out there full of big, wonderful things and Evan wanted desperately to _see_ the world. He wanted to see it, feel it, touch it, and taste it.

After all, he was a warrior.

Mommy and Daddy had chosen his name, Evan. It meant young warrior.

Daddy reminded him of that every night when he tucked him into bed.

"Evan, our young warrior." Daddy would smile and ruffle Evan's dark hair. Then Daddy would lean over and kiss him on the top of his head.

Evan felt Daddy's love in that smile and kiss. He saw the love in Daddy's eyes, too.

Evan liked it when Daddy read the bedtime story. Daddy picked stories with adventure and brave knights, stories that fueled Evan's imagination.

Evan wanted to be like the knights and princes in those bedtime stories. He wanted to travel to far off lands and have daring adventures. He wanted to wield a sword and slay fire-breathing dragons.

That's why Evan had run away today. Unknown places and adventure waited for him outside his yard.

When Mommy went in the house to make lunch, Evan slipped out the back gate. He crept to the front of the house and looked up and down the street. No one was around. Evan took off running.

At first he'd been afraid, but only because he'd disobeyed.

He knew the street well. Old people, who sat on their front porches, often waved to Evan and his Mommy when they walked down the street. Mommy, Evan, and his little sister, Leah, walked this street three times a week. Mommy pushed Leah in her stroller.

Leah was two and didn't walk much. Evan was five and could walk faster than Mommy. Mommy didn't like that though and when he got too far ahead she yelled for him to stop and wait.

Mommy was always holding him back.

Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, Evan, Mommy, and Leah went to see Daddy at his store. Mommy brought a picnic lunch tucked under Leah's stroller. The family would meet Daddy and have lunch together.

Daddy worked in a hardware store at the end of the street. Daddy was the assistant manager. Evan didn't know exactly what that was, but he knew it was an important job. Daddy was a boss, not the big boss, but a helper boss. At least that's the way Daddy explained it to Evan.

The family ate lunch at a small park across the street from the hardware store.

While Mommy unpacked the lunch, Daddy played with Leah.

Evan was allowed to wander a bit. Sometimes he'd play on the swings and sometimes he threw rocks into a creek that gurgled not far from the wooden picnic tables.

The creek fascinated Evan. He wanted to cross it and explore the forest on the other side. Mommy and Daddy always said no.

Evan didn't like that. He was a warrior. He wanted to explore the dirt path he saw winding between the pine trees.

Daddy tried to cheer him up. Daddy said they would cross that creek one day soon and hike through the forest. They'd find out where that path went.

Days came and went. Weekends came and went. But Daddy and Evan never crossed that creek. They never explored the forest or the path.

Daddy was always too busy. Yard work. Shopping. Inventory for the store. And a bunch of other stuff that Evan didn't understand or care about.

Why couldn't they go exploring? Daddy had made a promise.

Evan felt like Daddy had lied to him and you weren't supposed to lie.

That's why Evan had decided to head out on his own.

He would cross that creek and sneak into that forest. He would take that path and see where it led. Then tonight, when he got home he would tell Daddy all about his great adventure.

* * *

_To Anon:_ _I can't promise a sweet romantic story with F/C. I'd like to see one, too. Sadly, this isn't _that_ story. There are 'moments' though_.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Thanks for the reviews. Every word is greatly appreciated. I'm sorry this is not a happily-ever-after story for Frank and Callie. I can see one of those is sorely needed around here._

* * *

Chapter Three

Waves rolled in and crashed upon the beach. The wind had grown colder and stronger. Time to go. I'd lived enough memories for one night.

I was staying with mom and dad for four days. I'd come home to celebrate their thirty-fifth wedding anniversary. My brother was coming in tomorrow.

Joe and I owned a PI business in Illinois. Two years ago we'd fled Bayport. It was a feeble attempt to outrun our pasts and our pain.

Joe's girlfriend, Iola, had been killed in a car bomb in front of dad's PI office. Callie and I had divorced and she lived here with her new husband.

Neither Joe or I relished the constant reminders of what we'd lost.

Not that Joe and I actually talked about it. We kinda just sensed it in each other – the hurt and pain.

The logic was, if you don't talk about it then it can't hurt you.

Yeah, right.

My cell phone rang. Dad.

"Hey," I said as I walked to my rental car.

"You headed home?"

I could tell by dad's voice something was wrong.

"Yeah. What's up?"

"There's a missing child. Police Chief Stanton is organizing search parties. I thought we could lend a hand."

"Sure. Of course. I'll be home in five minutes."

"Better yet, meet me at the police station."

I opened the door of the rental car. "Roger that. Hey, who's the missing kid?"

Dad paused. I felt the weight of that pause. It told me a lot.

"Evan Christianson."

I knew the name – Christianson. Memories hit me like a freight train. Rob Christianson was Evan's father. Callie Christianson was his mother.

Callie had married Rob shortly after she left me.

You think love will be enough, that it can see you through anything. That might be true for a lot of people. It wasn't true for me.

I loved Callie with my whole heart, still do. I loved her with every fiber of my being and it wasn't enough.

I came home one day to find her packing. Two suitcases lay open on our bed. Her eyes were red-rimmed. She stopped packing and looked at me. She reminded me of a wounded animal – scared and in pain. She made a sound, something between a gasp and a sob. I could tell she was trying desperately to hold it together.

Now I was scared. Terrified actually.

She started talking, sentences punctuated by sobs.

She told me everything, all her thoughts and feelings.

I listened, stunned and dazed. My world had imploded. I felt like a paratrooper who'd just discovered his reserve chute wouldn't open.

What now? What the hell now?

Callie was talking. My mind tried to grab onto her words, tried to make sense of them. I fought to understand what she was saying.

She couldn't take it anymore; the Army, the crazy hours, the lonely nights, the deployments and uncertainty. She missed Bayport, her family, and friends. She didn't think she was cut out to be a military spouse. All the moving and constant good-byes. It just wasn't her.

Her words echoed in my head. It took me a moment to absorb what she'd said, what she meant.

_I'm leaving you_.

The words were a hammer to our past. Our first kiss on the beach. That first time in the back of my car. Our wedding day. The laughter and fun we'd shared over the years. All of it, everything, shattered.

Fear and hurt gripped me. How had this happened? How had I missed her unhappiness? Her loneliness?

I sat on the bed next to her. I reached for her hand. She reluctantly let me hold it. My heart couldn't take this. I felt like a stranger sitting beside the woman I loved, my wife of two years. Two very short years.

Her pain flowed into me.

At some inner, spiritual level I sensed that she didn't mean to hurt me. Not that the knowledge helped me.

Words tumbled out of me. I knew I couldn't change her mind, but I tried anyway. I promised her everything I could think of. I'd get out of the Army. I'd work for my dad again. We'd live in Bayport. We'd buy a big house with a picket fence.

I'd do anything, just give me a second chance.

My words were useless and I knew it. Still, I prayed they'd find a home in her heart.

Hope and denial are boundless emotions.

It took me years to learn to accept the pain. _My pain_.

I tried all the usual methods of coping; drinking myself into oblivion, taking on more dangerous assignments, driving too fast, and generally pissing off the people I worked with.

None of those things proved productive or effective.

At some point, I realized I had to own the pain. It was a part of me whether I liked it or not and it wasn't ever going away.

I accepted it as one does a benign tumor. It won't kill you but you wish it wasn't there. You have it removed and you're left with a scar. The scar's a reminder of the tumor.

That's the way I chose to view my pain. It was the scar.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

I was behind the wheel of the rental car driving along Main Street. I drove past shops and gas stations. Some places had weathered the years better than others. I saw the police station on the right. I pulled in front of the building and parked.

Dad was outside with three police officers. I stepped out of my vehicle and joined the group of men. I wondered where this night would take us.

Dad introduced me to the officers. Bayport's a small town and dad's well known. He's a retired police detective and has helped out on police cases over the years. I recognized one of the officers. I'd known him in high school. We nodded at each other.

Lead detective Dietz gave us the status report on Evan Christianson.

Callie had reported her son missing at 12:30pm. She'd left him playing in the backyard when she went inside to make lunch. Five minutes later, she checked the yard and discovered her son missing. She called his name and got no response. Frantic now, she searched the yard and her house. She still couldn't find Evan. She phoned her neighbors. Everyone checked their yards and the street. No sign of Evan and no one remembered seeing him. That's when Callie phoned the police. A cruiser arrived within five minutes and the officers conducted a thorough search of the neighborhood. Still no sign of Evan.

My God, I thought. It's been six hours since he went missing.

Callie. What must she be going through? I couldn't imagine the anguish, the pain, the guilt.

Actually, I could. I'd felt those same things the day she left me.

Detective Dietz and I paired up. We arrived at the Christianson's house at 7pm. I'd insisted on the visit. We needed more information, information only the parents could provide. Given my background in the Army's Criminal Investigation Division, Dietz agreed to let me lead the interview.

We walked up the porch steps and knocked on the front door. Callie answered. My breath caught in my throat. She was as beautiful as ever. Her hair was the color of summer wheat. Her eyes brimmed with tears. She stood motionless and stared at me, speechless.

My appearance had to shock her.

"I happened to be in town," I said. "It's my parents' 35th wedding anniversary."

She nodded and a tear slipped down her cheek. Her sadness was so profound. It ripped me apart. I wanted to hold her. I wanted to take the pain away.

"I'm here to help," I said softly.

She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand and stepped aside. "Thanks. Come in."

She was taking this pretty well, my sudden appearance, a missing son.

Dietz and I walked inside. A hall table, off to the side, had a large framed photo of the family. My gaze lingered. A smiling, handsome man hugged a little boy on his lap. Callie sat beside the man, a tiny, adorable girl wrapped in her arms.

The family was beautiful, absolutely beautiful. A part of me envied Rob Christianson.

We settled on the living room sofa. Rob was off with one of the search parties. He couldn't sit idly at home, Callie explained. I understood, I said. I would've done the same.

Callie's parents were there. They welcomed me warmly then gathered up some toys and took the little girl upstairs.

I had Callie relate the events of the afternoon. It was difficult, but she did it. She faltered a few times, almost broke down once, but took a deep breath and summoned the strength to go on.

I admired her courage and told her she was doing great. That seemed to boost her spirits.

After she finished, I said, "Let's assume for a minute that Evan left on his own."

She gave me a blank stare. The police were treating this like a kidnapping. Then anger hit. How could I suggest such a thing?

"Please," I said, "hear me out. There's no evidence he was taken. No blood stains, no drag marks, no one heard him scream or cry for help. It's not unheard of for little boys to sneak out of their yards. Think about the back gate. You said it was shut tight."

"It was." She was adamant about that.

"A kidnapper wouldn't take the time to close the gate. Not when they have a squirming child to deal with."

Emotions played across her face – confusion, disbelief, hope.

I said, "If Evan went off on his own, where would he go? Is there any place special nearby that he likes? Maybe a park or a playground?"

Callie gasped, "Oh my God. Yes."

* * *

_A/N: I thought I'd address some questions and concerns readers have voiced in reviews or via PMs._

_First, Nancy will not be in this story. Joe's not really in it either. He's mentioned in passing, but that's about it. As stated in the summary, this is a Frank/Callie story._

_Second, several readers would like to see 'some moments' between F/C. I'll see what I can do. That means I have to rewrite some parts of the story which means delays. Hope everyone's cool with that._

_Third, why military? It's what I know. I was in the Army for many years. I know the training, the procedures, the weapons. Another thing, in order to be a licensed PI you have to have experience in law enforcement, either civilian or military. Each state is a little different and some have more requirements than others (Illinois is pretty tough), but you can't just set up shop and call yourself a PI. Well, I guess you can, but the local police tend to frown on that. Plus, they wouldn't be willing to work with you either._

_Last, the I hate Callie. You do know this is a fictional character, right? Just kidding. I get it. I'm not a fan of Lois Lane. I never could see what Superman found so attractive about her. Too often she's the damsel in distress or too stupid to live. I've come to realize it's the way she's written that I don't like, not the character. Write her as a strong, vibrant woman with a brain and I'm all in._

_Okay, enough from me. Thank you everyone who's left a review. I know that takes time and energy and I value your thoughts and comments. I especially liked Cheryl's comment: stay true to what you believe. So true! _


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Fear crawled along Evan's skin. It worked its way into his chest and down into his stomach where it settled like a knot.

Evan was cold, damp, and dirty. It was eerie beneath the ground and that glimpse of sky was completely black.

Evan heard faint sounds.

_Thump. Thump. Scrape. Thump. Thump. Scrape._

The man was still up there, still looking for Evan.

The man had a flashlight and a shovel. He thrust the shovel into the ground in search of holes.

The thump of the shovel frightened Evan more than the dark, the cold, or the creepy crawly things in the hole.

"Come on out, boy. I ain't gonna hurt you," the man called.

That was a lie and Evan knew it. He'd seen what was in the man's truck.

* * *

_Earlier that day_:

Evan made it to the creek. The afternoon sun glinted off the clear water and momentarily blinded Evan. He covered his eyes with his hand, squinted, and looked at the forest path on the other side of the creek.

Evan wandered along the water's edge looking for a place to cross. He found a spot with rocks spaced like stepping stones. He scrambled across the rocks, slipped once – got his feet wet and hurt his right knee – but continued on.

Evan came to the path. Pine trees towered over him like giant sentinels. They seemed to guard the path, a path that led to a dark and mysterious world. Evan wanted to explore that world.

He walked along for some time breathing in the forest. He could feel its magic.

Small woodland animals scampered across the forest floor. Birds warbled and cawed in the branches above Evan's head. Leaves rustled gently in the afternoon breeze.

Evan picked up a long thin stick. It became an imaginary sword. Evan fought imaginary beasts as he wandered further into the forest mindless of where he went.

A soft scraping sound caught his ear and he crept toward it. A thick tree offered a good hiding spot. Evan slipped behind it and watched a heavyset man dig a hole. The man had been at it for quite some time. Sweat ran down his neck and dripped from the his brow.

A faded red truck was off to the side, its tailgate open. A large black bag lay in the bed of the truck.

Something about the bag – the shape of it, the smell of it, or both – frightened Evan.

The man stopped digging, wiped his brow, and took a leisurely look around. The sight of Evan brought him up short. The man let out a gasp and then a strangled cry.

Fear charged through Evan's body and told him to run. Evan's brain instinctually knew what his life experience did not. Evan listened to that primal fear and ran. His imaginary sword tossed aside in favor of speed.

The man yelled for Evan to stop. Evan did not obey. Nothing the man said would make Evan stop.

Evan darted under low branches. Zipped around brushes. Jumped over rocks and rotten logs.

The man chased after Evan. He was overweight and out of breath. Physical work did not come easy to the man. He begged Evan to wait, to stop, to listen. Evan paid no heed. His feet carried him deeper into the forest. The distance between him and the man increased.

And then, the earth gave way. One moment Evan was atop the ground and the next he was sliding down a dirt surface. It felt as if a trap door had opened beneath his feet. Evan came to rest at the bottom of a small hole.

Here, he had remained for seven hours.

Tired, damp, and hungry. Thirsty and scared.

Evan wanted to go home. He didn't care about adventures anymore. He wanted Mommy and Daddy. He wanted Mommy to fix him a sandwich and a glass of milk. He wanted Daddy to tuck him into bed and read him a bedtime story.

Evan said a silent pray and made a promise. He'd never disobey again.

Never.

Please, just get him out of the hole and away from the scary man.

* * *

The big man concentrated on the task at hand – finding the boy. Initially, he'd wondered why a small boy was alone in the forest. He'd thought perhaps the boy was lost.

Finally, the man realized it didn't matter and he didn't care what the reason. Lost or not, the boy had seen what was in the truck. That's what had sent the child running like his life depended on it. That's why he didn't answer when the man called out to him.

The man focused on the hard realities of the situation. The boy could identify him. He could tell the police what he'd seen in the truck, what he'd seen in the forest – the man digging a hole.

The man could not allow that.

The man had to find the boy, had to make sure he never talked.

Then, and only then, would everything be okay.

The man reckoned the boy had not gone far. Animal dens and burrows dotted this section of the forest. The man knew this area well. He'd found the holes months ago and had used them to his advantage, used them for his dark purposes.

The man figured the boy had fallen into one of those dens or burrows.

The heavy man wiped his brow and stretched his back. _I'm gonna find you, boy. _

The man played the beam of his flashlight over the ground and stabbed the earth with his shovel.

"Where you at, boy? Come on out now. I just wanna help you."

* * *

_A/N: No long note from me this time. A great big thank you to all who have left a review. I know that takes time and time is precious in today's world. We all live such busy lives, so thanks a million._

_This chapter should clear up a few questions. The next chapter is back to Frank._


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Detective Dietz and I headed for the park in his police cruiser. Dietz radioed the other units. Two said they would meet us at the park. One of the search parties said the same.

Callie had told us Evan always wanted to explore the forest across the creek.

We were on the right track. I felt it. Evan went to the park, crossed the creek, and got lost in the forest.

Or … hurt.

Hurt or lost. Neither scenario was good.

Fear invaded my body. I knew this fear well. It had walked with me many times. I had to find a little boy. I had to bring him home to his mother. Finding Evan was more important to me than anything I'd ever done.

Evan's mother was a woman I'd loved, still loved. I have learned that love is something you never get over. It's something you carry in your heart forever. I'd loved Callie with the purest, deepest love a man knows. She was the one woman in the world I would do anything for. The one woman in the world I said I would never hurt again.

I would not let anything destroy her world.

I'd failed her once. I didn't live up to her expectations of a husband. I could not fail her again.

We arrived at the park. Dietz and I got out of the cruiser. Three other vehicles pulled in behind us and parked.

Men greeted each other and retrieved gear from cars – flashlights, water bottles, gloves, knit caps. It was late summer. Days were warm, nights were cool. Evan had left his house wearing a t-shirt and shorts. He had to be cold now. Hypothermia was a real concern.

Rob Christianson got out of one of the vehicles. That surprised me. It shouldn't have, but it did. He had every right to be here.

He saw me and did a double-take then turned away. He zipped up his windbreaker and got a flashlight out of a vehicle.

His eyes came back to me. My presence was not entirely welcome. His guard was up, he wasn't sure of my motives.

I thought maybe I should say something, offer my hand and let him know why I was there. But Dietz started talking, explaining why we were here. He told the group about the information we'd gotten from Callie. Guilt and remorse flickered across Rob's face when Dietz talked about the path. Dietz emphasized what Mrs. Christianson, Callie, had said – Evan was obsessed with the path, always talking about it and how he wanted to explore it.

I figured it was best for me to remain silent. I was sure Rob didn't want to hear from the ex-husband. I wouldn't want to hear from me if I were him.

I said nothing out of respect for him, for Callie, and for Evan.

I was here to help, not to interfere.

Men broke into teams of two. That gave us four teams. Each team had a radio and an assigned search area. Dietz and I were a team. He was in his vehicle on the radio checking in with the police station.

Rob approached me, his expression neutral. "Hardy." It wasn't a question, but it wasn't an accusation either.

I didn't offer my hand. Rob's posture told me shaking hands wasn't on the agenda. Message received – we would be civil, but not overly friendly.

I told Rob the same thing I'd told Callie. "I just happened to be in town. It's my parents' wedding anniversary. I thought I could help."

"I'm happy for the help. I just want my son back." The raw emotion in Rob's voice shook me, his honesty, his sincerity. He was hurting and afraid and didn't try to hide it. All offers of help were welcome. He would do whatever it took to get his son back even work with me, the ex-husband.

"We're going to get him back," I said. "Safe and sound."

Rob nodded, unable to say anything. His emotions were right there, skimming the surface, threatening to undo him.

Dietz saved us from further conversation.

"Okay men, we need to find where Evan crossed the creek." Dietz swept his flashlight beam over the immediate area. "It's too deep here. I'm thinking he wandered along the stream until he found a narrow spot and then crossed. What do you think, Rob?"

"I'd agree with that. I always told Evan he couldn't take the path without me." Rob swallowed hard and scrubbed a hand over his mouth. "I told him we'd have to find a good place to cross."

"Okay," Dietz said. "Then we have to find that place. Two teams will head west along the creek and two teams will head east. Cross when you find a good spot. We'll keep in radio contact. Everyone ready?"

Each man gave his approval – a nod, a grunt, or a 'yeah' – and we were off.

As Dietz and I walked along the creek I thought about love. Tonight was based on love. Love is such a powerful emotion. It can bring people together or it can tear them apart.

Tonight, love had brought people together in search of a small child. An entire town and police force were working together, all because of love _and hope_.

In my mind's eye I saw a long tunnel. Callie stood at the end of it. I could see her, but I could not move toward her no matter how hard I tried.

What was my mind telling me? She was out of reach?

Thanks, I knew that. No reminders necessary.

The mind does crazy things. Reminds us of things we don't want to be reminded of.

What I didn't want to admit was that seeing Callie tonight had touched a wound in my heart. The sight of her had stirred my pain, the pain I had learned to live with.

Or so I thought.

* * *

_A/N: I have been so lazy lately. It's summer vacation and I haven't wanted to do anything. That's why you haven't seen any updates recently. Now you know. :)_

_I wanted to thank everyone who has left a review: Xdaisy chainX, Albany, LazyPanther, max2013, zenfrodo, Red Hardy, Cheryl, Caranath, Leyapearl, and guests. Hope I didn't miss anyone! I apology if I did._

_Caranath - you always make me laugh with your comments. Thanks! (Are we sure Callie was faithful? Hmmm, I wonder.)_

_Thank you Xdaisy chainX, Red Hardy, Cheryl, zenfrodo, for the comments about my writing style. I really treasure those specific comments. I do spend a lot of time on wording and flow. I'm not always successful, but I try. ;)_

_Also, thanks LazyPanther, Cheryl, and others for telling me to just write 'my story.' I am going to do just that._


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter seven

The man heard the distant shouts and saw lines of light flash between tree trunks.

They're searching for the boy.

A corner of the man's eye twitched. It happened whenever nerves got the better of him as they did now.

This was certainly not good news. Time to leave, or flee if you wanted the honest truth. This was no time to pussyfoot around.

The searchers were a fair ways off. That gave the man plenty of time and confidence to get to his truck. He moved slow and easy keeping watch on the flashing lights. The searchers were moving slow and easy, too, calling the little boy's name.

_Evan! Evaaaan!_

Thank you dear Lord, the man thought. Thank you for giving me the boy's name. Now, I can find him later, take care of him, and put this situation to rest.

The man picked up his pace and hurried toward his truck. He stumbled a few times, but never slowed. He scared something rooting around at the base of a tree, and heard it skitter into the darkness, the creature as much afraid of the man as he was of it.

He was panting and sweating by the time he yanked open the driver's side door. He'd been smart enough to disconnect the dome light so nothing lit up.

Months ago the man had learned a valuable lesson. Digging graves was not easy, especially for a man his size. (He really should lose a few pounds). Nevertheless, grave digging took a fair amount of time. The man started in late afternoon, but did not finish until almost dark. That first time, he had returned to his truck, opened the door, and been hit by the sudden glare of light.

He'd unwittingly announced his presence. Someone could have seen that bright light flooding the forest. Quickly, he'd gotten in the truck and slammed the door shut. Another mistake – noise. He'd worried for days after that.

When the first woman turned up missing he was sure someone would come forward, mention the light in the forest or the slamming door.

That never happened so, lesson learned. The next morning, he had disconnected the dome light and left it disconnected.

Now, he tossed his flashlight and shovel into the truck cab. Went to the back and eased the tailgate shut. A metallic clank indicated the gate was secure. The black bag and its contents would have to wait for another day.

The searchers' cries grew louder. They were closing in on his position.

The man started his truck and pulled away. No headlights, not until he reached pavement two miles away. It was slow going. The truck bounced over a rock and came down hard. The man cursed, apologized to God for his foul language, and kept on going.

He strained to see. It was next to impossible. He went by luck, feel, and memory. The main concern, put distance between him and the searchers.

He felt the hand of God take the wheel. God led him home.

He and God had a special bond. God watched over him because he did God's work.

* * *

_A/N: Thank you for the reviews. BTW: I didn't mean to give people the idea that Callie had been unfaithful. I was just responding to a reviewer's comment. Also, if you're willing to read, I'm willing to finish this tale. I'm warning you though, it may get a bit creepy._


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

We met up after crossing the creek. Dietz and I found child sized footprints in the mud where we'd crossed. A positive sign and everyone approached the search with more hope.

I held out my flashlight – borrowed from dad – and shone the light along the dirt path leading into the forest. Four men walked on the left side of the path, four men walked on the right. Dietz and I were on the right.

We slipped into the stark, black night. I sniffed the air as I walked, tried to _feel_ the environment, tried to tune in to the forest. The hairs on the back of my neck tingled. My senses were hyper-aware.

Men shouted Evan's name over and over. They called out in all directions, their voices echoing through the forest. It was a bit distracting. I wondered if Evan heard the calls.

Someone spotted a small footprint and we all stopped to check it out. Another confirmation Evan came this way. Another surge of hope.

We pushed deeper into the forest. The shouts grew louder, more eager, more earnest.

I thought I heard a car start in the distance. The men's shouts drowned out the sound. I rushed forward, strained my ears, and listened.

The faint chug of an engine?

I wished the men would shut up. Just shut the hell up.

I scanned the forest, my eyes wild, searching for movement. There, to the east. Maybe. A vehicle?

A loud yelp and a cry of pain broke my concentration.

Everyone was suddenly in motion, running, yelling.

I stayed focused on the movement in the distance. I was pretty sure of it now and I listened hard. It was no use. Chaos swirled around me. Men yelled to each other. Someone was down, hurt bad. Men ran through the forest, breaking small branches in their desperation to get to the fallen man.

Someone shouted for an ambulance.

Dietz yelled back, "I'm on it."

What the hell had happened?

I made my way to where the group was clustered. Flashlights, or most of them, were directed at a man on the ground.

The sight startled me. It was the weirdest thing I had ever seen. A man stuck in the ground. All I could see was his head.

"My leg. My goddamn leg," he moaned. "I think it's broke."

"We need to get you out of there," another man said. He gingerly stepped toward his partner. He didn't want to wind up in the same predicament.

"An ambulance is on the way," Dietz said as he joined the group. "I need someone to go back to the park, meet the ambulance, and guide them here."

A man volunteered and promptly headed to the park.

Dietz assigned two men to stay with, Jim, the injured man. The rest of us continued the search. Half of our team was gone. Only four of us left for the search – Dietz, me, Rob, and a guy named Downs.

Dietz said, "There might be more holes like the one Jim fell in. So watch your step, everyone."

I stepped closer to Dietz and said, "Evan could've fallen in a hole."

"I know." Dietz looked worried. "And he could be hurt just like Jim."

"And something else," I said. "I heard a vehicle, earlier, when we were searching. It was to the east." I pointed in the direction I'd heard the vehicle.

Dietz frowned. "You sure?"

"Pretty sure. It was hard to tell with all the commotion, but I think I saw it drive away."

"I don't like the sound of that. I don't like the idea someone might have abducted Evan." Dietz wiped his brow with the back of his hand. "We do not need that. The Christiansons are under enough stress as it is. Rob's nearly at his breaking point."

"I know." I didn't like the possibility of Evan being abducted any more than Dietz. "Just thought you should know what I saw and heard."

We walked together sweeping our flashlights along the ground. We stuck to the path. Less chance of falling in a hole. We joined our voices with Rob and Downs', called out Evan's name … over and over.

An hour later, we found him in a hole. Words cannot describe my relief, my happiness, everyone's relief and happiness. Rob had to be overwhelmed. I admired how he kept his calm.

Everyone shined their flashlights into the hole as Rob got down on the cold, damp ground and stretched a hand into the hole. Evan couldn't reach it.

"I want my Mommy," Evan cried. He squinted under the harsh glare of the flashlights. "I wanna go home, Daddy," he sobbed.

I could see him shivering. His little body was spent. He'd given all he could give. We had to get him out of there

"I'll get in the hole and hand him up to you," I said to Rob. I was the tallest member of the group.

"Let's do it," Rob said. He made room for me then told Evan, "Mr. Hardy's going to get in the hole with you. He's going to lift you up to me. We're going to get you out of there."

Evan nodded, tears streamed down his face. "Hurry Daddy. I'm cold."

"We're hurrying," Rob assured him. "Move over some. Mr. Hardy's coming down now."

I half slid, half jumped, into the hole. Evan shied away. He was a cute kid. He had Rob's dark hair and Callie's big blue eyes.

I squatted and said, "It's okay, Evan. I'm going to help you get out of here. You want to get out of here, don't you?"

He nodded, but looked fearful. I didn't blame him.

"I'm going to lift you up on my shoulders," I said. "Then I want you to reach your arms up. Way up." I lifted my arms over my head to demonstrate. "See? Just like this. Can you do that?"

He nodded and seemed to relax a bit.

"Show me how high you can lift your arms."

He lifted his little arms and I said, "That's great. When you're on my shoulders I want you to lift your arms just like that. Your dad's going to grab your hands and pull you out. You understand?"

Another nod.

"Okay, are you ready?" I asked.

Another nod, definitely not a talkative kid. Maybe it was everything he'd been through.

I got on my knees and helped him climb onto my shoulders. He seemed so small and light. He couldn't have weighed more than forty-five pounds. I held him around the waist as he squatted on my shoulders. I leaned against the side of the hole. Got a face full of dirt.

I spit out some dirt and said, "Okay, lift your arms. Stand and reach for your dad."

I felt him being lifted off my shoulders. A sigh of relief shuddered through my body.

Then it was my turn. Dietz and Downs lowered a branch into the hole. I grabbed on tight with my left hand and climbed the dirt slope as they pulled.

* * *

_A/N: Sorry for the delay. Vacation trip, 4th of July, cleaning the house ... You get the idea. Chapter nine will follow soon._

_And who am I kidding, short story? This is turning into a much longer story than I'd planned. Oh well, I go wherever the story takes me._

_BTW I'm happy and relieved people liked the way Frank interacted with Rob. In my opinion, Frank's a stand-up guy and he'd be respectful. Callie's the one who left. Rob didn't steal her away and Frank knows that. It may not be easy to accept his ex-wife's new husband, but Frank respects the man even if he hates the idea._


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Dietz and I drove Rob and Evan to the hospital. They sat in the back of the cruiser the light from the dashboard lit their faces. Evan on Rob's lap, Rob's arms tight around his son, holding him like he'd never let go. It was a moving scene.

"The bad man scared me, Daddy."

"Mr. Hardy's not a bad man, Evan. He's an old friend of your mother's."

An old friend? More than an old friend, I thought, much more, but not important at the moment, not to a five year old.

"No, Daddy. The bad man. He scared me."

"Shhh, it's okay now." Rob ran a soothing hand over Evan's head. "You're safe. We're going to get you checked at the hospital and then we're going home."

"I don't wanna go to the hospital. I want Mommy."

"Mommy's at the hospital. She's waiting there for us. She can't wait to see you." In the rearview mirror I saw Rob kiss the top of Evan's head.

I felt like an intruder spying on a person's most intimate moments. The love of a parent for their child is staggering. Rob's love, radiated like a gentle wave and filled the car. It swept over me and filled my heart.

I made a promise then and there, I was going to find the scary man who'd frightened Evan. I would find out what he was doing in the forest and why he hadn't helped Evan.

* * *

Callie rushed to the car when it pulled next to the emergency room doors.

Rob tumbled out of the back and Evan was instantly in Callie's arms. Tears and sobs followed. Kisses and hugs were next. Evan clung to his mother. They were going to have to pry him off later.

Me, the old friend, stood in the background, a ton of emotions whirling inside – pride, happiness, love, envy, sadness. There were other emotions, ones I couldn't name, all fighting for a piece of me.

It's a wonder I didn't cry. I came close. Fortunately, Dietz and I didn't stay long.

Good-nights were exchanged. I honestly don't remember what I said, what Dietz said, what anybody said. I only remembered what I saw; Rob's arm around Callie's shoulders as they turned and walked to a group of waiting nurses.

Dietz got a radio call as he drove me to my rental car. It was an update on Jim, the man who'd fallen in a hole. He had a broken ankle, bad enough it needed pins. His surgery was scheduled for tomorrow morning.

Dietz expressed his concern and relief, "Sounds like he'll be fine in the long run. Glad we found Evan and no one was seriously hurt."

"Yeah, me too," I said. "But there is one thing. I'm wondering if there's a connection between the vehicle I saw and the man Evan mentioned?"

Dietz thought for a moment. "Could be. Could be the man was just trying to help Evan."

"I thought of that, but why'd he run?"

"I don't know. Maybe he was afraid we'd get the wrong impression." Dietz glanced at me. "Something bothering you?"

"No, just the man. Evan seemed more afraid of him than of being trapped in a hole. I don't think it would be a bad idea to question Evan about the man."

Dietz stared at the road. "I'll think about it. I wouldn't want to push a little boy too hard. Evan's been through a lot already. So have his parents. Questioning can wait."

"You're right." I said the words, but I didn't agree with them.

* * *

I got to my parents' house at eleven p.m.

Mom shrieked when she saw me. "Frank!"

I was covered in dirt and mud from head to toe.

"Take off those clothes this instant. You're not stepping another foot in to this house until you do."

Mom's a neat freak.

"Can you get me a towel or something?" I said.

Dad appeared at the mudroom door. He'd gotten home a few minutes before me.

"So, you found him," dad said.

"He was in a hole. Must've fallen in," I said. "Rob, Evan, and Callie are at the hospital. Evan looked fine. Probably a little dehydrated."

"Glad to hear he's fine," dad said. "Can't tell you how relieved I am."

"Yeah, we all are."

Dad caught the tone of my voice and the frown on my face. "What?"

I shook my head. "I don't know. Just something I saw. A vehicle leaving the area where we found Evan."

"So?"

"So, it struck me as odd." I told dad Evan's story about the scary man as I stood in the mudroom stripping off my dirty clothes.

Mom reappeared with a towel and handed it to me. "I'll make some hot cocoa while you take a shower." It was an order.

"Yes, mother. One shower coming up," I said with mock sarcasm. A charming smile lessened the impact.

"Mind your manners, Frank. I'm still your mother."

"And I wouldn't have it any other way. I love you, mom. You're the best." I meant every cheesy word.

Mom laughed and shook her head dismissively. "You always were a charmer. You and your brother. Wonder where you got that from?" Mom cast dad a disparaging look then smiled. Her smile lit up the room and her sky blue eyes.

I wrapped the towel around me thinking, dad's not the only one responsible for my so-called charm.

* * *

_A/N: Special thanks to Max2013 and Caranath for their reviews on the last chapter. Sorry Caranath, Joe's not making an appearance for a few more chapters._


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

I finished my shower, put on sweatpants and a t-shirt, and joined mom and dad in the kitchen nook. The promised hot cocoa was delicious. Dad's generous dose of Bailey's Irish Cream made it even better.

I had a lovely evening sitting there with my parents talking about old times.

My family had moved to Bayport when I was fourteen and Joe was thirteen. Before that we'd lived in the Big Apple. Dad was a detective for the homicide division. Mom had never cared for the big city and when dad decided to retire, mom saw it as the perfect opportunity for a change. She pushed the idea of moving to Bayport. Dad's sister, Gertrude, lived here so we'd be close to family.

Dad agreed to the move, but warned mom it would mean more time away from home for him. At forty-four, he had no intentions of truly retiring. He planned on opening a private detective agency and that meant he'd have to travel from time to time. He might be gone a week or more.

Mom had said, "It'll be fine. Your sister will be living with us. She'll help me watch over the boys."

Believe me, fourteen and thirteen year old boys need looking after. The mischief Joe and I got into was nothing bad, mostly harmless fun and games at the beach or someone's house. We managed to keep most of it hidden from mom and Aunt Trudy.

I studied my parents that night, how they interacted, the subtle nods, a gentle touch, a knowing glance, the tender smiles and shrugs. They had a language all their own. Thirty-five years of marriage and sometimes they didn't have to say a word.

It was late, almost one, and I was tired. I wished my parents another thirty-five years of wedded bliss and headed off to bed.

Two cups of spiked hot cocoa had me feeling warm and fuzzy. I got to my old bedroom, didn't bother with the light, just stripped off my clothes, and collapsed on the bed. The dark and quiet were a welcome comfort. I closed my eyes and let my mind wander to the past.

"_Take your clothes off, Frank_."

Callie's voice, sweet and sexy. She was behind me, in only a bra and jeans, hugging me around the waist, her hands feeling for the buttons on my shirt.

We were in our tiny studio apartment.

I helped her unbutton the shirt and she pulled it off my shoulders. The shirt dropped to the floor. I felt her hands trace the muscles of my back. A shiver rippled down my spine.

She hugged me around the waist and I wrapped my arms over hers.

I hadn't seen her in ten weeks. I'd missed her fiercely, missed her scent, missed the feel of her skin beneath my fingers, the taste of her lips, the way she looked at me, like I was everything in the world to her.

Her hands slid up, explored my chest. Basic training had added ten pounds of muscle to my six-foot-one frame. Drill Sergeant Mackey had promised us abs of steel by the time he was done with us. He'd made good on his promise and then some.

I could tell Callie liked what she felt. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. She was pushing me to the edge.

We'd gotten married a month before I left for basic and rented this studio apartment. I was home now, one week of leave, then I'd be gone for five months. More training, Military Police School at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri. I couldn't imagine five months without her.

I turned to face her. My heart pounded in my ears and my blood felt like hot lead.

"I've missed you so damn much," I said.

"I've missed you, too." Her voice was low and husky.

I pushed her hair off her shoulders, felt silky strands spill through my fingers. I bent to kiss her. I was going for tender and romantic. She returned the kiss then pulled back and gazed at me. Her eyes seemed to lose focus, or perhaps they were focused on everything – me .. us .. the moment .. our near naked bodies pressing against each other.

Her hand caressed me, dangerously, and I realized she wasn't interested in tender and romantic. Guess it had been a long ten weeks for her, too.

Callie and I spent that week reconnecting, reaffirming our love.

I hated leaving her behind again. It killed me to see her so sad and alone, but I was excited about my training. Military Police School was the whole reason I'd joined the Army. Once the school was over, we'd be together, no more separations.

That's what we told each other. Five months and then we'd be together.

I was gone seven and a half months that first year. Not the best start to a marriage.

While I was in MP School, Callie got a job as a cashier at the hardware store, the one where Rob worked now. Was he there back then? I never checked. Some things are better left unknown.

Sleep finally won the battle and I drifted into the dark void taking bittersweet memories with me.

* * *

_A/N: Thank you, thank you reviewers! It's nice to know someone is reading._

_Cheryl: I'm so glad you still enjoy the story. That means a lot to me. Hope this chapter gave some satisfaction. It might have been too much though._

_LazyPanther: I like the first person narrative, too. I feel it makes a bigger emotional impact. The story becomes more personal which is what I wanted._

_Guest: Yes, of course you can leave comments here requesting an update on _Meet at Midnight_. I plan on updating that next. You see, I get into a funk at times, think my writing is horrible and don't want to post. All writers go through doubts and insecurities. I may have more than others. ;)_

_Caranath: Oh my, tears and Frank getting shot? Neither had occurred to me. I'm not saying any more I don't want to give anything away._

_Max2013: As always, thank you for reading and leaving a comment. The other shoe may well drop._


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter eleven

Nine AM. I was in the forest, on the path. The air was cool and crisp. Trees loomed over me. A bright patch of blue sky peeked through the treetops. Two hours on the hunt and here it was – the cold hard evidence I'd come looking for. An open grave.

I got closer and knelt beside it. My throat constricted. Already I thought of it as a grave although that was pure speculation.

Piles of freshly dug dirt lined two sides of the rectangular hole. The grave measured five feet by four feet and looked to be about three feet deep. A lot of digging. A lot of time.

I stood and brushed the dirt off my jeans. Why hadn't the grave-digger completed the job? Didn't like this spot? That hardly seemed likely. He'd put a lot of time and effort into it. Something must have caused him to walk away.

What ? The curious eyes of a child?

If Evan was the cause, he must have been hidden nearby. I turned in a circle. Where would he have hidden?

I searched the area for broken branches, snapped twigs, and footprints. I found a set of small prints behind a thick pine tree. The perfect hiding spot. Evan had stood here and watched the man, watched him dig that hole. I was sure of it.

Tire tracks were to the right. The man had driven here. The vehicle I'd seen last night could have been his. Evan might be able to describe it. The color and size. A car or truck?

I followed the small footprints. The deep indentation of the toes told me Evan had run.

_The scary man_.

Evan hadn't stayed on the path. He'd veered off into the undergrowth. I followed the signs – broken branches on small bushes, torn leaves, a turned over log.

Large footprints followed in Evan's wake. The man had pursued for some distance then gave up. Why? Why had he given up?

I found a spot where the man's footprints doubled back. I got on my knee and examined them, took pictures with my cell phone.

The man's prints were deep and wide set an indication he was heavyset.

I returned to the open grave, found more prints, and took more pictures.

I phoned the police station and asked for Detective Dietz. He was out on a missing person's case. The desk sergeant informed me this was the second missing person in two months, both elderly women. A feeling of foreboding washed over me.

The desk sergeant said, "You're that Army CID guy. Dietz told me about you."

"Former CID," I corrected. Before the sergeant got too wrapped up in the 'former' part I asked about a cadaver dog.

Instead of answering my question he asked one of his own, "What you need a cadaver dog for?"

"I'm standing next to an open grave," I said. "There might be others out here. Ones with bodies."

The sergeant muttered a quiet curse then said, "Well, I can't help you with the dog. Not right away anyhow. The closest facility with dogs is four hours away. But I can send you some help. A psychic."

"What?" I wasn't sure I'd heard him correctly. "A psychic?"

"Yeah, a guy came in this morning. He's still here. Says he's had visions about the little boy and the forest. I'll send him your way. Where you at exactly?"

Thirty minutes later I stared into the expressive brown eyes of a chubby thirty-something year old. He said his name was Steven. I shook his hand. Steven said his 'abilities' had started when he was five. He launched into the story of his life and how it had taken people a while to accept him and his 'gift.'

I tuned him out and wondered how to gently ease out of the situation. Steven looked like the sensitive type and hurting his feelings wasn't high on my list of things to do today.

Steven sensed my doubt. You wouldn't need to be a psychic to do that. He saw the open grave and walked to it … stood next to it and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath.

For some reason he made me nervous.

"I saw him here," Steven said. Those sensitive eyes of his stared at me. "In my vision, I saw a man digging, here. A big man. Heavyset. I can see the sweat rolling down his face. He's mad. Frustrated. He's in a hurry. He wants to finish before dark."

So far, I wasn't impressed. I'd surmised the same things through casual observation.

Steven continued, "The boy was hiding over there." He pointed to the spot I'd discovered earlier.

Okay, he had my attention. How'd he know that? Then I realized, the tree he pointed to was the thickest and biggest in the area. Several high bushes surrounded it. A logical choice. Back to 'not impressed.'

"You're right," I said. "I found a child's footprints by the tree."

Half a smile lit Steven's face. The hair on the back of my neck tingled. Steven's smile made my skin crawl.

"There's another grave," Steven said, still with the half-smile.

Now, he had my undivided attention.

"Where?" I asked trying to ignore the smile. It wasn't easy.

Steven closed his eyes and seemed to view a scene in his mind. "There's a group of trees. Give me a minute."

I waited patiently. Looked at my watch. Four hours until I had to pick up my brother at the airport.

"There's a path." Steven's voice startled me.

I nodded to him. "Show me."

He looked around, got his bearings, and headed off toward a narrow path, one I hadn't noticed before.

The path, made by animals, was well hidden. We pushed branches and weeds aside as we trudged along. We walked for some distance. Branches slapped my arms and legs. Bugs buzzed around my head. A few bite my neck. I hated this path.

Abruptly, Steven stopped and I bumped into him.

"This is it," Steven said.

We were in a small clearing. I scanned the area, the moist ground. Animals had dug burrows between tree roots and under thick shrubs. Then I noticed the piece of fabric. A wedge of light blue sticking out of the ground.

A silent curse went through my head. Then the smell hit me. I thought I was going to be sick.

* * *

_A/N: Yes, I know it's been a while. New job, lots of travel. I promise to finish this story .. and my other one. I know folks are anxious for an update on that one. I honestly do not deserve your loyalty or readership._


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